


Cuffs

by mzamethystcrow



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BAMF Natasha, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Loki Angst, Loki Needs a Hug, Mild Kink, Orgasm Delay/Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-20
Updated: 2013-09-20
Packaged: 2017-12-27 04:22:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/974275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mzamethystcrow/pseuds/mzamethystcrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Odd, but it did please Natasha to see Loki suffer, and she knew why...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cuffs

“Have you come to gloat, Agent Romanoff?”

“No.”

“It must please you then to see me suffer like this.”

She cocked her head to the side, curious as to how she would respond as she closed the door to his bedroom.  It was a true statement, not a question, and he had read her well. Odd, it did please her to see him suffer, but she knew why.  His forced rehabilitation period had begun almost two years ago thanks to Odin’s grand decree that the Bifrost would be unavailable to the brothers for the foreseeable thousand years, so that they could learn to get along with each other. It had been a prospect that Loki well and truly hated. He didn’t exactly want to atone for his crimes at the hands of the humans he thought beneath him, but she couldn’t blame him. She wouldn’t either, if she was given the choice.

Yet she had found herself starting to enjoy his company and his snarky wit as time went on. He was a master manipulator, skilled at lies and deceit and she could respect that. That was her forte, her skill as a spy and she could relate.

It was an art form to be sure, and she could easily tell when Loki was deceiving another, usually his brother. She could also tell when he was being honest and true, but she kept that little secret to herself.

There were times when she thought that Loki might have caught on that she was aware, but he never addressed it. Why spoil the fun? Instead he would he just smile, with a cocky mischievous grin that had annoyed her at first.

At first.

But then she had grown accustomed to it, even welcomed it.

Then she began to look forward to it and that’s what disturbed her the most.

And he knew it.

It started with little things: casually invading her personal space during missions, when he could choose to stand somewhere else and next to anyone else; brushing the back of his long, elegant fingers against her bare bicep for no logical reason; stealing her coffee cup, her ice cream, her fucking maraschino cherries, despite her repeated requests not to take what belonged to hers.

When her heart began to race during a mission debriefing because his eerie green gaze was focused squarely on her and her alone from across the table, she knew she had lost her mind. She should have been furious at his total lack of respect for protocol, when instead she had to shift her position in her chair. The unexpected ache between her legs made it too uncomfortable to sit still, damn it. She felt like some fucking hormonal teenager. A _god damn mewling quim_ and she wanted to tear his eyes out with her bare hands. She had glared at him from across the table, and she had been greeted with that same, slow mischievous grin.

He knew exactly what he had been doing to her the whole time.

And it was that wicked grin of his she pictured, and that alabaster skin she wanted to taste, and that dark, silky hair he possessed that was burned into her mind as she used her vibrator to get herself off multiple times that night.

But the most infuriating thing about it was that he was the only one that had made her feel that way in a very, very, _very_ long time.

Oh, it would be so very, very, _very_ easy to fall in love with the charming reforming asshole just because of that. And she didn’t feel. Not like that, and not with the bad guy.

Well, you weren’t supposed to. And not because they were so very, very, _very_ much alike, once.

Damn it.

And it didn’t help, either, that the banter between him and Thor had finally changed six months or so ago from distrust and maliciousness to almost playful banter, which was a welcome change from the vile insults.  Had Loki finally given up, realizing and knowing that Thor was too stubborn to stop loving him?

Still, to everyone else on their team, the idea of Loki suffering would have been welcome, even wanted, at the start of his rehab two years ago, but now? Now, she should feel sympathy or pity for him if she were a normal person. Not a twinge of pleasure at his current state of distress.

But, she wasn’t exactly normal. She liked bad boys in a very bad (good?) way and had a sadistic streak in her, clearly. Perhaps that’s why she was best suited to deal with Loki. But she also know that it was because of this that she was the only one who could best deal with this situation.

True, Loki had caused the death of hundreds if not thousands of people over the course of a few days and tried to take over the world a few years ago and true, he deserved to undergo his fate, but then, how many lives had she destroyed while in the service of the Red Room?

Regardless, Loki didn’t deserve the torture he’d received at the hands of the Chitauri.  No one did, no matter how good or evil. Loki was now Agent Laufeyson—or Odinson if Thor wanted to argue with you— temporarily inducted into SHIELD on a trial basis, much like she had been when she was first rehabilitated from her previous employer.

He was a part of their team, and as much as trust issues were still at play by the rest of their team, he didn’t deserve it. It had been a foolish mistake on their part to attempt to use Dr. Foster’s science with Loki’s magic to reestablish a Bifrost connection when Odin had warned them not to. They had been cautioned by Thor that any attempts could be intercepted if not controlled properly and that’s exactly what happened. The Chitauri didn’t care about earth or humans or SHIELD or exacting revenge on her team.

No.

They only wanted Loki.

And so the Chitauri took him.

Thor was distraught for weeks, thinking again he had lost his brother. The rest of their team, save Thor, was elated at the idea that Loki was no longer the pesky thorn in their sides.

Except her.

It bothered her that she was saddened by his kidnapping, but it infuriated her even more that she knew why.

She just didn’t want to admit it. And it was then that she knew it was more than she just missed him.

But, they had found him. The Chitauri weren’t the smartest aliens in the universe, leaving a sloppy cosmic trail that, with a little help from Thor’s homeworld, they were able to follow.

Despite dragging their feet, her team had found Loki.

Never had she seen a grown group of men horrified by what they saw. Even she admitted she was somewhat disturbed by it, but perhaps it was because of the sheer nature of the torment the Chitauri had chosen that they were visibly shaken by it.

After all, only a man could appreciate it’s cruelty. 

And beauty. She wished she had thought of such a torture in her days past.

Bound and gagged at the base of an otherworldly throne, drugged and whimpering, they found Loki. Although he had been bathed and adorned with jewelry and baubles worthy of any prince, he had been stripped naked, most likely in a mockery of his former status. Cuts and bruises marred his pale skin and it wasn’t until Thor had tilted Loki forward to place his cloak on him out of decency that they discovered Loki had been savagely whipped, multiple times.

No one mentioned Loki’s rather large and straining erection.  Very impressive, in her opinion.

That is, until their return to earth and Dr. Banner tried to remove the strange cuffs that bound Loki’s wrists. Despite being out of it with whatever drug the Chitauri had given him to make him submit, the screams of agony from Loki gave her shivers. Never had she heard a man, even the ones she had tortured in her past, make such a sound filled with so much distraught and fear.

It was when Loki had begged Dr. Banner to kill him and blood had begun to seep around the edges of the glowing bonds, that Thor put a stop to it. With a promise to return, Thor had asked the sky if he could consult with his father to find out what the bonds were and how he could help his adopted little brother.

The Bifrost had opened – someone was watching them—and Thor had disappeared.

That was two months ago. In Thor’s absence, they had figured out what was wrong with Loki and it was very bad news: Loki was suffering from a severe case of priapism and by now, any normal human would have died.  

Upon Thor’s dramatic return within a week, he brought even more bad news:  the Chitauri had stolen a wonderful tool from the realm of Vanaheim used for male adulterers. They had stolen cuffs with a name she couldn’t pronounce that were imbued with magic that she didn’t understand. She didn’t know how the Chitauri had discovered it, but due to Loki’s unique physiology as a Frost Giant and his aptitudes with magic, the key to suppressing his talent and protecting themselves from his wrath was to induce a constant, prolonged state of sexual arousal with said magical cuffs.

Perhaps the Chitauri weren’t so stupid after all.

The result was Loki’s current, forever induced erection. No amount of modern medicine, except possibly cutting off the protruding organ, would alleviate his burden or allow him to come in orgasmic bliss.

Yet, they needed to find a solution and fast or he would die.

And that bothered her most of all. She really didn’t want him to die.

While he wasn’t human, according to Thor, Loki didn’t have much longer. Loki was borderline hysterical with pain and discomfort and the need to get off. Literally.

So, why couldn’t Loki just get himself off, she had asked quietly when a meeting had been convened to decide what to do about Loki’s condition.

Oh, but the cuffs-with-a-name-she-couldn’t-pronounce-that-were-imbued-with-magic-that-she-didn’t-understand had a catch according to what Thor was telling them: the bonds would constrict and slice off the hands of the man who tried to alleviate his own discomfort.

And Loki had tried. She could see that very well with the rivulets of dried blood that had traced paths down his forearms. Thankfully, he had had the sense to stop before his hands were severed.

That had led to the second option, which she had worked with SHIELD’s most accomplished doctors to make viable about a month ago. It was their only option to save him in her mind, which is what brought her to this very moment of standing in his bedroom, at the foot of his bed after midnight in just a t-shirt and thong.

She just hoped it worked.

 _It must please you then to see me suffer like this._ “Yes, it does,” she answered truthfully, bringing her thoughts back to her mission. That’s exactly what this was, a mission. She was on a mission to save Loki’s life. How ironic that she looked forward to it.

That’s what she was trying to tell herself in order not to find perverse pleasure in this, but she was failing miserably at it.

“Of c-course it does.”

Ah, he had slipped. The agony was eating away at his carefully built bravado since she had entered his bedroom.

“You think I’m cruel.”

“Oh, I know you are cruel.” Sitting in an upright position against the headboard, he shifted on the bed, raising one knee in an attempt block her view of his prominent erection. Despite wearing only black pajama bottoms, it was still clearly evident.

Out of sheer brazen instinct, she wet her lips. She cleared her throat to hide the action. “Ah, I forgot. Clint told you everything I’ve done, didn’t he? All my secrets. Well, all the ones he knew anyways.” But, while she and Clint were close, they weren’t _that_ close. He didn’t know her deepest, darkest desires. One, which was coming out to play right now, at this very moment.

“What do you want…” he paused, his tragically beautiful—yes, he was beautiful she could fully admit that— aristocratic features twisting in pain. “Agent Romanoff?”

She answered with a question of her own, enjoying the snippy tinge of his response. “Do you know what those cuffs are, Loki?”

He gritted his teeth. “No, why don’t you tell me,” he lied.

She told him the name of the magical bonds from Vanaheim with flawless pronunciation. She had practiced before coming here, just to see what his reaction would be.

And it was worth the practice, just to see the look on his face at this very moment.

Horror.

She wasn’t stupid, and neither was he. She knew very well he would probably know what the cuffs were and where they came from. She just wanted him to admit it. And what it meant for her to know what they were and what their purpose was. “Don’t lie to me again, Loki.”

He swallowed. “N-no, I don’t suppose there is any point in deception now, is there?” Were those tears welling in his eyes? Was it from another wave of pain—and she could only imagine the level of pain he was at by this point—or was it from defeat? She knew the options he had and they were very few. He probably did as well. She was well and truly sadistic because she wanted to hear them coming from that deep, exotic voice that was catnip to her ears.

She sat on the edge of the bed and studied him. He had been forcibly sedated in the last twenty-four hours, despite his protests, and induced into a semi-comatose state so he could sleep and find some sort of peace. Not that it had done any good; he had moaned and whimpered the whole time and had shuddered himself awake several times. Dark circles had taken up residence under his eyes. His clear, vibrant green gaze was now dull and lifeless, filled with worry and etched with anguish.  He had taken a shower, as best he could with bound hands, providing himself with some sense of normalcy. His black hair, clean and shiny, cascaded freely about his shoulders in soft waves.

She itched to push back a lock that had fallen against his ashen forehead. Would it provide comfort to him, she wondered? “We puny mortals have many stories about you, Loki, including how you are a very sexually promiscuous creature. Did the Chitauri know that?”

He visibly flinched at her mocking. “Get out, Natasha.”

Oh, good. He used her first name. This was getting better. “No.”

“Although my hands are b-bound, I want nothing more than to… to strangle you.”

Her gaze settled on his hands, balled into fists above his head. Bound by the cuffs, his hands were further restrained away from his body, attached to a short chain that was secured to a post above the headboard. Loki asked for the accommodation to be made whenever he wasn’t eating or trying to sleep to keep his hands away from himself and keep the chances of self-harm at bay. It was getting that dangerous.

And so his request was granted, but it also made him vulnerable and at the mercy of whomever attended to him.

Which was her at the moment and it couldn’t be more perfect.

“Did they, Loki?”

“I despise you.” Venom hissed in his voice.

“I don’t really care. You hate the situation you’re in and I’m not leaving until you answer my que-.”

“Yes!” She was taken aback by his outburst and the tear that slipped down his cheek. “Yes, they knew.” He turned his head away from her, seemingly embarrassed by his show of weakness.

She reached out and clasped his jaw with her hand, putting enough pressure in her grip to force him to look at her. “Tell me how the cuffs can be removed.”

“You…y-you won’t be able t-to r-remove them.”

“Tell me, Loki. Now.”

He snarled at her. “Killing me is the only option. That’s why you’re here.”

“Tell me.”

“Is this not what you’ve always wanted? My death? Rejoice, you shall…shall have it.”

She released his jaw when she felt him tense, his whole body shuddering. Groaning, his breath quickened into short bursts.

Was this what labor felt like without an epidural, she wondered.

“N-Natasha, please. I am not above beg...begging you. Not anymore.”

“Are you asking me to leave and let you die in peace or kill you?”

With a half-snarl, half-cry he tried to kick her off the bed—and failed. “Tell me, Loki, and I’ll give you what you need.”

“W-why do you want…want to know?” Before she could answer, his gaze narrowed on her. She saw the light of realization dawn in his eyes. “You…you already know how.”

She edges of her lips curled upward as she crawled toward him on the bed. “Yes, I do.”

Confusion crossed his perspiring brow.  Was that fear in his eyes? Oh, what a wicked game she was playing. “Then why…?”

She leaned over and straddled him, cradling his overly-sensitive crotch against her ass. He gasped, surprised by her movement. She brought her lips to his ear, teasing the outer rim with the tip of her tongue. “Because I’m a sadistic bitch and I want to hear it from you, you twisted fuck.”

Shock. Vulnerability? Awe.

_Submission._

She sat back, enjoying the sensation of his hard cock nestled next to her flesh. He looked somewhere past her, over her right shoulder as he spoke as if trying to find focus against the distraction. “Adultery is for…forbidden on Vanaheim. If the adulterer’s w-wife chooses to forgive him and lay with him, he shall be released only after his s-seed is planted within her. I have committed no such adultery and have no wife to forgive me.”

“And two?” She asked, softly.

He swallowed. She had never found the Adam’s Apple on a man so appealing as she did right now. “If he be overtly lustful, the cuffs may be used to…p-punish his promiscuity until his death. But if a woman deems him,” he stopped and closed his eyes, tears flowing freely from beneath long, black lashes. “w-worthy of her love and she chooses to lay with him freely, he shall be released only after his seed is planted within her. I am not worth the love of any woman.”

She smiled. “And?” she prodded.

“And I may take care of it myself, but sever my hands and become more of a monster than I already am. Or die,” he finished with a sneer. “Now, kill me or get off me.”

“There, was that so bad?” Natasha raked her nails down his chest, causing him to jerk under her light torment before splaying her hands over his stomach. Not that she had had ample opportunities to see Loki without a tunic or shirt on, but she marveled over the six pack he had managed to obtain on such a long and lean frame. And, oh.  Oh, damn, the v-cuts where his hips joined his torso were her kryptonite.

So, that’s what had been hiding under all that armor and metal and leather.

 “I despise you,” he repeated his earlier sentiment. It was anger and not pain that made his body shake. If he wasn’t bound by magical cuffs, she might actually be in fear of her life right now.

“No, you don’t. But, good thing I don’t despise you. Far from it.”

“I don’t understand.” He seemed genuinely perplexed that she wasn’t upset by his lie.

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her torso and pulled her t-shirt off. She popped the clasp on the front of her lacy red bra, allowing her breasts to spill free of the confining material. She hummed in amusement at his silent, wide-eyed stare. “I’m going to fuck you, Loki.”

Panic spread across his face. “N-no, it doesn’t work that way. I have to be worthy of your... I am not. The bonds. If it be not true, they will constrict and—”

She slapped her hand over his lips to silence the words tripping over themselves.

He whimpered.

Natasha smiled. “What makes you think you aren’t?” she whispered in all seriousness. His brow furrowed in further confusion as she took her hand away, but he wisely chose to remain silent as he shuddered beneath her. “You know my past, my history. SHIELD may pay me ungodly amounts of money to be on the winning side, but that doesn’t mean I forget my past or that I’m necessarily always a good person. I do what I have to do. I have a very dark soul, Loki. Sometimes I do think it would just be easier to kill them all.”

Was that a hint of a smile she saw? She leaned closer, but pushed her hips back against his groin, her ass hitting his straining cock through the fabric of his pajama bottoms. She bit her lip at hearing his sharp intake of breath. “I like bad boys, Loki. I always have. And I loved a very bad man, once.  So don’t fucking tell me you aren’t worthy. That’s for me to decide, not you.”

Natasha lifted her hips up, deftly shimming one leg and then the other out of the thin strip of fabric that was her thong. Cool air hit her clit, but she stifled a moan. Instead, she grinned at hearing Loki’s rather colorful, and very human, explicative.  She reached behind her and slipped the elastic waistband of his pants down, freeing his burden. Natasha lifted her hips again and placed one of her hands on the cuffs that bound him to the headboard for leverage, the other around his cock preparing to guide him into her. She grimaced in sympathy for him when he slammed his head back against the headboard and screwed his eyes shut, obviously sensitive to her touch.  Beneath her fingers, she could feel how feverishly hot and hard he was, desperate with need. She was pleasantly surprised by his girth, her fist barely closing around him. She moved her hand down the length of him, to the base and back up. She might have heard him quietly plead her name, she wasn’t sure. All she wanted was to feel that exquisite length inside of her.  She had fantasized about it more than once and he had been the direct cause of that.

Waiting no longer, she eased her hips down feeling the head of his cock at her entrance. All through Loki’s erotic whine and his futile attempts to jerk and tug against the bonds, Natasha slid herself the rest of the way down, sheathing him completely. “Shhhhh,” she teased, lacing her fingers through one of his splayed hands. “Trust me.”

Fully seated on him now—God the pressure was exquisite—she rocked her hips. A second time. Then a third.

Then she stopped.

Loki moaned.

With her free hand, she tugged on his bottom lip pulling it out from under his top teeth. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to draw blood.  “Loki. Look at me.” She teased his bottom lip with her tongue, soothing it. “Look at me,” she whispered.

He complied, although his eyes were fresh with unshed tears. “Do you want to be worthy, Loki?”

Loki remained silent, guarded even, watching her carefully. Was he contemplating a lie, she wondered? “Lie to me, and this ends now,” she reiterated her earlier warning. If he said no, in that he didn’t want to be worthy or didn’t _feel_ worthy, would the cuffs constrict and injure him further? She was in no mood for a messy, bloody cleanup and was he willing to test that? But if he said yes… if he said yes, then that would mean that Loki wanted, even desired to be worthy of love.

Of her love, and he had to admit it.

She cupped his cheek and wiped away a tear with her thumb and rocked her hips just one more time, to give him some incentive to make a decision. _So vulnerable…_ “Answer me, love.”

Never mind that she was already in love with him.

His answer was barely audible and Natasha wasn’t even sure she heard it except she saw the resignation in his expression.

Natasha snapped her hips forward, ripping a lusty cry from Loki. She pushed up on her knees, allowing him to withdraw from her only half-way. “Then do not come until I give you permission.”

God, she was a wicked, wicked woman. _Because he so desperately, desperately needed to come in order to live!_ She slowly slithered back down the length of him, causing him to hiss through gritted teeth. “Can you do that for me?”

Frustration spilled from Loki in a trembling sigh. He blinked rapidly as if biting off the urge to scream. It seemed he couldn’t even form comprehensible words, for all he could do was nod and that was all she needed. She wouldn’t torture him further by requiring verbal confirmation. She wasn’t truly evil, after all.

That was reserved for off-the-rails, psychopathic agents of chaos like Loki.

Thanks to yoga giving Natasha excellent flexibility, with her hand still entwined with one of his over his head, she arched her back and planted her other hand between his legs on the bed behind her.  She wrapped her legs around his waist and, with the angle slightly changed, she rolled her hips forward.

Loki, the dear, sweet, near-hysterical and subjugated god at her mercy lifted his hips at the same time, hitting her G-spot and she gasped. Was it a fluke or would he do it again when she rolled her hips again—oh God, he did. And he continued to do so, matching in time with her thrusts. He had screwed his eyes shut once again, as if only being able to concentrate on one thing and one thing only: her command not to explode or else, but bless him for trying to expedite her orgasm.  She couldn’t really blame him, of course, because, oh damn, she really was going to come fast if she didn’t slow down. She had wanted to prolong this as much as possible because, fuck, not only did he fit her perfectly but damn did she feel empowered with a helpless god tied to a bed and writhing beneath her as she fucked his brains out.

“Oh shit, Loki,” she moaned, snapping her hips forward one last time as she felt her muscles clench in the oncoming wave of pleasure. She felt herself spasm around him and she threw her head back and shouted.  She felt the crescendo of tingles in her groin, race up her torso and even up her spine. She didn’t know if it was having total dominance over him or because she just hadn’t had sex in a really long time, but damn, that was quite possibly the most fantastic orgasm she’d ever had.

Natasha remembered she needed to give Loki permission to come when she heard him whimper her name. He was shaking with need as he stared up at her with a glassy gaze, tears streaming freely down his face. She was honestly and truly impressed that he had the god-like stamina to withhold his own orgasm when hers hit, despite all he had been through. It was feat most men couldn’t do in a normal round of sex, unless you were an accomplished and experience porn star, and even then it took talent. But for Loki to hold back when he so desperately needed release, especially when his life depended on it was a gift, really. It meant the world to her that he did, in fact, want what she was offering him. When his voice broke as he said “Please, may I?”, she reached behind her and cupped him.

“You may come, love,” she said, palming and teasing the sensitive flesh as encouragement. It didn’t take long before he tensed within her and she watched in fascination as his face scrunched in pleasure and perhaps a little bit of pain as his orgasm broke.

Loki pulled his knees up, resting them against her back and he arched his own, pulling tension against his bonds. His jaw dropped and he threw his head back in a silent scream as he found release. She had never thought it so erotic in all her life to feel a man pulse when planting his seed, as it were, when inside of her as she held him there.

She looked up at where her hand was entwined in his above his head when she heard a buzz and then a pop as the cuffs snapped open, freeing him. She never doubted they wouldn’t and wasn’t the least bit surprised when they did. She did love bad boys and he had proved himself to be worthy. The only thing she hadn’t been sure of was her timing.

Natasha was surprised, however, when the second he was free he surged forward and wrapped his hand around her neck. Though he had enough strength and power to snap her neck on a good day because, well, he was a god after all, he didn’t and probably couldn’t because he was as weak as a kitten and she had just fucked his brains out.

Or, he didn’t want to.

Regardless, she found it humorous that despite one hand positioned to choke the life out of her— _because you don’t just subjugate a god and get away with it!_ —the other was entwined in her hair and it wasn’t until he groaned—God, his voice!— his lips mere centimeters away from hers, that she realized Loki was still having the most intense orgasm of his life.

Damn, did all Frost Giants have such intense prolonged orgasms or was it just now because of what the cuffs did? She wondered what Loki’s recovery period was, because wanted to test that theory just as soon as he was physically able and she wanted to not be able to walk for a week after. 

A shuddered breath left Loki’s lungs when his orgasm finally subsided. His brows furrowed together in confusion, one slightly higher than the other, as if he couldn’t actually believe what she had done for him. She shook her head, acknowledging that men were still so simple-minded most of the time.

She swatted his hands out of the way, cupping his face and kissed the spot between his perfectly shaped eyebrows.  In one swift move she unstraddled him, causing him to gasp, but gave him a nice view of her ass as she stood in compensation for her decision to disjoin their bodies so suddenly.

She smirked all the way to his bathroom.

# # #

Loki slumped down into the mattress, his head sinking into the pillow. Exhausted, Loki tried to regain some sense of reality. Surely that had to have been a delusion brought on by pain and subsequent insanity. Few times in his relatively long life, Loki had been left speechless. This was one of those times and not only was a human woman the cause of it, but Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, had been responsible for it. He laid there, trying to pull himself together—and put his finally relieved cock back in his pants—as he listened to the sound of running water coming from his bathroom.

He wasn’t even sure what he would say to her, if he could even form words. He had truly been going for a subtle, quiet seduction over the past few months. His plan was to eventually get her into his bed by way of cunning seduction but this…this was not what he had intended nor expected.

His thoughts were interrupted as she strode out of the bathroom in one of his dark green t-shirts. On her short, petite frame it swallowed her, the hem coming past her knees and, by the Norns, if she didn’t look stunning in it. She padded over to the bedside table and picked up the annoying Midgardian invention that was a telephone. She punched a few buttons before speaking into it.

“It’s done, Director Fury.”

He frowned, confused. “ _It worked?_ ” He could hear Director Fury’s voice on the other end of the phone.

“Yes, it worked. My assessment was correct.”

His jaw clenched. So, she just on a mission and he was her target? Of course. Had he expected anything else? She was a master of lies, like he, but to have fooled the Cuffs of Kuaelin—

She must’ve sensed his shift in emotions, for she sat on the edge of the bed and pushed a lock of hair away from his face before putting one of her fingers against his lips to keep him silent. She guessed he could hear Director Fury’s voice. “ _Well, Agent Romanoff, are you going to return to be debriefed?”_

He wanted to scoff at the absurdity of Fury’s request. What was there to debrief?

“No, sir.”

“ _Can I ask why?_ ”

“You can ask.”

“ _Agent Romanoff. Is my assumption as to why you agreed to do this correct?_ ”

Loki arched an eyebrow.

“I’ve always thought you to be a very perceptive man, sir.”

“ _You do understand the potential consequences, Natasha._ ”

“Yes sir. Those consequences are the only way it would have worked and exactly why it worked.”

Fury’s exaggerated sigh echoed through the receiver.

“ _You knew that, didn’t you, when you came to me, asking to use the stem cell research we’ve been working on and the Super Soldier serum to regrow what the Red Room took away._ ”

“Goodnight Director Fury.” Natasha didn’t give Director Fury time to respond before she hit the END button and put the phone back on the bedside table. Loki had no time to process the ramifications of what he had just overheard before she spoke.  “You still don’t think you’re worthy.”

Her blue gaze wasn’t focused on him at the start of her statement, but by the time she finished it was and there was no question she expected an answer.

Doubt was a festering, evil disease that had plagued him many times in his life and now was no different. He shook his head, wondering what kind of wrath he would incur from the fiery redhead who had just dismissed her boss so easily.

“You’re the God of Lies. Was I lying?”

She didn’t give him a chance to answer for she had she clicked off the light and was gently nudging him. It was then that he realized she really had no intention of leaving. He shifted over on the bed, giving her room. He felt the sheet and comforter being tugged from beneath him and he complied, allowing her to pull it over them. 

How Natasha could find his shoulder comfortable, he had no idea but that was where she settled herself after throwing her arm across his chest and hooking her leg around his. She had effectively—and possessively—wrapped herself around him.

It took Loki a full minute to realize that she had fallen asleep when he felt her chest rise and fall slowly against him. She hadn’t waited for his answer and perhaps she hadn’t needed to. He had known she hadn’t been lying the moment the cuffs snapped open and released him. But what he couldn’t figure out was _why_ she seemed to think he was worthy except that he was a slightly less complicated version of his former mischievous self because he had to be to survive on this world.

By the Norns, females of every species were the ultimate puzzle to him and the one hugging him in her sleep loved him and he had no idea why.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tighter to him. “Thank you,” he whispered, finally finding the right words before drifting off to sleep.


End file.
